Little Talks
by Eggmanspe
Summary: While on a camping trip, X and Y talk about their experiences on their journey the year before. Mangaverse.


**Written for Pokespe Discord Summer 2019 Collab Project. **

Shifting in his spot, X stared with miserable eyes up at the dark blue canopy ceiling of his tent, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he tried in vain to ignore the feeling of sticks and rocks jabbing into his back. He pulled himself up a little, hoping perhaps to find softer ground beneath him, to no avail – all that accomplished was adding what felt to be a pinecone into the mix of what was sure to be a future chiropractor appointment. The prodigy sighed. Flipping a glance to his left, he could see the form of his friend, Trevor, asleep, though fitfully, if his expression was anything to go off of.

It was the first night of 'the Vaniville Quintet's Grand Camping Adventure at Pokémon Village', as Y had called it, and everything that could've gone wrong had gone wrong. First, and most obviously, none of them had had the foresight of bringing air mattresses. At the revelation of this, coming from Shauna when she tested out one of the newly erected tents, Y had waved it off and said that it'd be fine and that their sleeping bags would be enough to be comfortable, which X had later found to just be objectively untrue. The tent had then collapsed on top of Shauna, because X himself had been the one tasked to put it up and somehow the concept of securing it to the ground had escaped him.

It's not as if their problems ended there, either. When trying to go for a swim with Y in one of the small ponds, X had accidentally kicked what he at the time thought had been a very sharp rock, though found out seconds later was actually a sleeping Sharpedo. He didn't even know there _were _Sharpedos in Pokémon Village, let alone in a goddamn puddle of a pond. Regardless, the only reason him and Y weren't currently piles of bloody strips was because of Marisso springing into action and punting the Brutal Pokémon into fucking orbit. When trying to cook that night's meal, Shauna burned the eggs to a crisp because the pan was too hot, the smell of which attracted a horde of curious Zoroarks. X had nearly passed out on the 10-mile hike Y insisted they go on. Trevor accidentally woke up the local Snorlax while trying to gather data on it. Literally none of them had successfully roasted a marshmallow that night. The list just went on and on, and now X was left feeling sore, exhausted, and quite frankly embarrassed, unable to sleep due to nature's LEGO pieces jamming into his spine.

Sighing again, X sat up. There was no point in even trying to get a good night's sleep like this. From between the cracks of the tent's entrance, a faint orange light glowed, signifying that at least one of Y, Shauna, or Tierno was still awake. Likely Y, given that he'd heard Shauna's complaining and Tierno's gentle laughter from beside him several times, but nothing of the blonde girl. Sparing one last glance at Trevor, the battle prodigy silently crept out of the tent.

The world outside was somehow simultaneously hot and cold – the night's chill battering X's ears the second he peaked out the door, while the soft warmth of the campfire bathed his face. Everything was aglow in a faint sunset orange, the eyes of wild Noctowl illuminated in the trees, highlighted further by the pale light of the crescent moon above. Staggering to his feet, aching body protesting, X cast a sweeping glance around, inspecting the various figures of him and his friend's Pokémon as they all rested peacefully: Kerokero snuggled up against Marisso next to the other tent, Fletchy perched comfortable upon Kanga's head a few paces away. The only things that still stirred were Garma, the Gengar lurking amongst the trees, likely up to no good, and, as X had predicted, Y. The girl's back was turned to him as she absently stoked the fire, sat upon the wet, slightly mossy log she'd found to use a bench. Judging by how she hadn't said anything or moved at his arrival, he figured she had yet to notice him.

Awkwardly, he approached.

"Uh," he said softly, his neighbour tensing in surprise, "hey, Y."

"X!" She exclaimed, whirling around. X offered a stiff little wave. For a few seconds, the blonde merely stared at him, before she broke out into a smile, placing a hand over her heart. "Jeez, you scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry," his apology was gentle, and he made a move to sit down next to her, which he regretted the instant he felt the wood squish slightly beneath him. Y shifted to give him some room, jabbing her fire poker into the ground.

Her voice was loud compared to the hushed surroundings. "I thought you said you were going to bed, what're you doing up? It's like… Well, I don't know what time it is."

'_1:12,' _X recited in his head. He must've checked his phone more than a hundred times in the last few hours. Instead of saying that, however, he just shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep. It's too uncomfortable."

"Really? It can't be much worse than Rhyrhy's tent was."

X winced a little at the reference. "That… didn't have sticks. Or rocks."

"Technically Rhyrhy _was _the rock!" Y laughed loudly at her own unfunny joke, and when X didn't, she gave him a friendly slap on the back. "C'mon! That was good!"

"Mm," X forced a small smile, because, really, that was barely even a pun, then let his expression fall again. "But," he started, "what about you?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you still up…?"

"Oh." Y looked taken aback, as if she hadn't expected him to ask. She hastily turned back to the fire, shielding her expression. "Same as you, I guess. I just couldn't sleep." At that, X frowned. He hadn't once heard her enter either of the tents. Leaning forward, he attempted to get a glance at her face, curious about the sudden, almost somber tone in her voice, but she twisted further away.

"Any reason why…?"

"Well… I've just been thinking." When was the last time he'd heard her sound this hesitant? … Not since they were kids. "It's not important," Y added before he could say anything, "Just personal stuff."

"I… You… You can tell me. I-if it's bothering you, it might help," X chose his words carefully, trying his best to sound open and supportive, though it was a struggle. He couldn't recall ever having to comfort Y like this. Moreover, he couldn't recall ever _seeing _Y like this.

Was she tired, perhaps? … Unlikely. As he gathered from the various movie nights they'd had after him officially coming out of his room, the worst she got when she was sleepy was a tad cranky. This was something else entirely.

Y poked the fire a few times, resulting in an eruption of sparks. A few seconds passed before she responded, "I didn't say it was bothering me."

But she hadn't said it wasn't, either. And judging by, well, everything, it very clearly was. X opened his mouth to respond, but again found himself at a loss for what to say. Thankfully, he didn't have to, because after another couple seconds, his neighbour continued.

"It's just…. About last year. Our journey. Team Flare. All of that."

"O-oh." X breathed shakily. Suddenly, he felt very cold.

"Yeah." She turned back towards the flames, her features now clear to X – her downcast eyes, lips pulled into a small, strained frown, eyebrows creased with evident stress. A hushed sigh escaped her. "It's stupid," Y muttered, "I shouldn't even be thinking about it. We're supposed to be on vacation." With a tug of her shirt, a slightly oversized, light grey thing that read "STTYX' in her own terrible handwriting above a bunch of crudely drawn stick figures allegedly intended to be of herself and her friends (they were camping shirts, she'd claimed as she handed out one to each member of the group, 'STTYX' apparently a word she'd made by combining the first letters of all their names. She said it sounded like 'sticks', X thought it made them sound like a metal band.), the girl let her shoulders fall.

"…. I still think about it a lot, too." Admitted X softly. Y turned to him in surprise. "Even when I shouldn't."

The blonde girl hesitated, then laughed, quietly and stiffly. "Like when you're in public and you see people. Just talking. Just having fun. You think of it, right? Everything we went through to save them."

"And how little they appreciated it." Starkly contrasting, X's tone was bitter.

"… We didn't do what we did for praise."

"I know."

"We did it because we wanted to preserve everyone's happiness, right? We couldn't just stand there and watch Lysandre take over Kalos." More sparks rose in a flurry from the fire as Y gave it a rough prod. "It shouldn't matter how people react, right? Otherwise we wouldn't of turned down Sycamore's request for that parade thing. There's no reason to regret what we did."

It almost sounded like Y was talking more to herself than to him.

"… Right?" She asked yet again.

X nodded uncertainly. "Right," he agreed, the word feeling wrong on his tongue.

"Right. It all ended well. Everyone's safe, you're out of your room, I don't have any reason to complain." Sounding almost relieved, the girl let herself lean back, flipping her head up to the sky. X followed suit. It was a clear summer night, a sea of stars shimmering above them. From the forest, X could make out Kanga's familiar snores. Everything was peaceful. And yet everything felt wrong.

"I think you do." Before X could stop himself, the words tumbled clumsily out of him. Y frowned.

"Huh?"

"I think you have every reason to complain. I think… I think you should be mad." Now it was him who couldn't meet her gaze. "At me."

Here it was. The vocalization of the thought that had been eating him since his first day of peace after several months of hell, one he had, at one point, intended to bottle up and keep to himself, but now found himself desperate to let it out. Already, he regretted his decision to speak. But Y's attention was now solely fixated on him.

"… At you? X, why the hell would I be mad at _you?"_

"I… I…" his heart was thumping so violently he felt it might explode. "I wasted your time," he mumbled.

"My t-?!"

"All those years I spent locked up in my room. You came by _every single day _to visit me. You'd find new things to invite me to, you'd spend almost an hour just talking to me so I wasn't alone, and you had to wake up early to do that, right? Because you have school in the morning." His thoughts were flowing out now, freely and messily, and X's throat was tight. "A-and I… I never…" X felt his eyes start to sting a bit.

"That – that wasn't your fault! I did that because _I _wanted to help you, you never made me stay!" Y's protests were only making him feel worse, more guilty. X buried his face into his knees. "Hell, half the time you even told me to leave!"

"That just makes it worse. I never told you I appreciated that you did that for me. All I ever did was snap at you and tell you to go away."

"That's- well, I don't blame you! _I _screamed at you half the time! I wouldn't appreciate that if I was in your socks, either," Argued Y.

X sucked in a shuddering breath, rubbing his arm over his eyes.

"It meant the world to me, Y."

The girl went silent. Her fire poking stick now sat in her lap, the hands clenching it white-knuckled, expression unreadable, if X were to find the strength to look at it.

"See?" he whispered. "You didn't even know that."

"… I'm sorry, X-"

"Why are you apologizing to _me?" _X's anger flared, gritting his teeth. He balled the grey cloth of his shirt in his fists. "I always do this to you! I _always _make _everything _about me!" The part of him that was expecting her to interject drew the wrong hand, as she only stared, frozen. "When we were on our journey, when you were leading us through everything, I never bothered to ask if you were okay. Did anyone? Everything with Grace, being attacked constantly, always having to be on the move…. I should've… at least once…." The passion that had erupted within him seemed to fade, leaving him feeling nothing but tired and miserable. He gave up on fighting back his tears, letting one roll down his cheek, then another. After all he'd said, his shoulders felt lighter, but his heart ever the weightier. "I'm sorry, Y…."

"…." He felt Y's hand rest on his shoulder. Pulling his head up, he met her gaze at last, shocked when he saw her with a warm smile, and small tears of her own rising in her eyes. "It's okay, X." she whispered. "I've never been mad about this, I promise. I'm just…. _Happy, _to know you care so much."

"…."

"During our journey, I didn't want anybody to know what I was feeling, everybody had their own problems and we didn't really have time for mine. I barely ever thought about my feelings, to be honest. How could I expect anybody else to?"

The fire crackled several times before X replied, letting what his friend had just told him roll round in his mind.

" I want…" He begun, shakily, "I want you to be able to be honest. With me. Like I can be with you. I," squirming in his seat, X's cheeks went hot at the thought of what he was about to say. "I'll always have time for you, Y."

Y's small smile grew into a full grin, that wonderful confidence of hers seeming to flow back in like X's words had broken a dam. And, perhaps it was just from the cozy glow of the campfire, but X could swear her face had some red on it, too.

"Sure." She agreed. "I'd love that. There's a _lot _I could talk about."

X smiled back, relieved.

"…. Now, what'dya say we try roasting some more marshmallows?" Y asked, straightening up with a stretch. Reaching down beside her, she grabbed the forgotten bag of marshmallows, half empty from the massacre that had occurred earlier, and shook them with a raise of her eyebrows. "Huh?"

X's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Y…" He started.

"I'm not trying to change the conversation, I swear! I'm just… really hungry," she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I haven't eaten anything since those granola bars!" She pushed one of the fluffy white treats onto the end of her fire stoker, handing it over to X, then searched for a stick for herself. "We can commence Honest Feelings Hour as we eat them!"

"… Sure." X shook his head lightly, rolling the stick around in his hands. The marshmallow had already melted at its core and was slipping down its surface from the heat of the tip. "… This gets a stupid name, too?"

"It's not stupid! It's sweet!"

"… Sure." X repeated. And he meant it.

Y's smile was contagious.

…

That night, after hours of spilling their hearts to one another and dozens and dozens of roasted marshmallows, successful and unsuccessful, X and Y crawled back into bed when the first light of dawn peaked over the horizon. Now, X laid yet again in that crowded little tent, the sticks and rocks he'd mentally berated still there, still stabbing him, but not enough to fight against the weight of his eyelids. Casting one last glance to Y's sweet, sleeping face, the trainer let his exhaustion wash over him, allowing his eyes to finally shut.

"... Thank you, Y," he whispered into the silence of the night.

"_I can't hear you~" _Her reply was unexpected, but X only smiled. The boy shifted himself a little closer to her.

"Thank you, Y." He repeated, louder.


End file.
